My normal is your weird.
Your normality is my abnormality.
Who are we to decide what is normal or abnormal?

It's too much to handle,
flaring inside
like a house fire sparked by a candle.

The larger the fire the harder to hide,
silently engulfing everything it brushes.
Burning the inside while the outside stays intact,

as the smoke rushes
darkening vision,
burning and burning until there is nothing but ashes,
in the burden of hate.

Her arms are tender,
it's where I sleep soundly.
Her lap is soft,
it's where I find comfort.
Her kisses are blessings in disguise.
My mother's love is peace,
my mother's love is peace.

I've lost touch with myself,
left with nothing but despair.
How do I find myself?
I've looked everywhere.